The Soldier Left Behind
by Sandylee007
Summary: A SLIGHTLY ALTERED ENDING / A MISSING SCENE FROM 'LAST OF THE TIME LORDS'. What if Lucy Saxon hadn't let the Doctor leave quite so easily? Martha and Jack try to look after the injured Time Lord. During the hours that follow Martha makes some heart shattering discoveries. ONESHOT unrequited MarthaxDoctor


A/N: Soooo… This story popped into my head, made a nest and refused to be evicted. So, here we are. (grins) BUT, first…!

DISCLAIMER: Who, ME?! Nope, no, no. You've got the wrong gal'. I'm merely a fan that enjoyes toying with the characters from time to time.

WARNINGS: Mentions of injury, blood and death, unrequited love, a tiny bit of vulgar language… Ya know, pretty mild stuff for something I've typed.

**Takes place: **Shortly after the Master's cremation.

Alright, then. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy reading this at least one tenth of the amount I enjoyed typing this! And now, fellow 'Who' fans…

Allons-y!

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><p><strong><em>The Soldier Left Behind<em>**

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><p>It should've been a victory. The world had been saved. The Year That Never Was had been deleted, perhaps not from their minds and hearts but from existence. It should've been a time for relief and maybe even joy.<p>

But sometimes the world refuses to be that simple.

The Doctor kept his hands tightly shoved out of sight, mainly to keep his two companions from seeing how badly they were shaking. He also did his best to keep his expression in check because he didn't want to explain his grief to them. It was bad enough that they'd seen him break down once, only briefly but still. He wasn't planning on forcing them, especially Jack, into understanding _this_.

To discover that someone of his kind was still alive, after all, no matter how badly lost the Master had been…

To have that _hope_ gain spark and burst into light…

And then to lose that one person, right there before his eyes, in such a cruel way…

To be all alone in the world once more…

It was a horrible burden, to be the last of his kind for the second time.

To be the only one left.

"Doctor?" He'd almost forgotten that he had company until Martha spoke. There was confusion and worry on her face. "Are you alright?"

With years upon years – centuries, really – worth of experience he was able to create the smile easily. Even through the incredible agony of two broken hearts. "Yes, fine." He took a breath. "Now, the TARDIS is nearby. We should…"

"Doctor."

The three of them spun around at the sound of a surprising, familiar voice. Lucy Saxon was standing a few steps away, dressed in all black and with an unreadable look on her face. Her hands were in the pockets of her long coat.

The Doctor frowned, trying to piece things together. "Lucy? What…?"

Jack seemed to sense something because for a microsecond the immortal man moved. Then froze entirely at the sight of the gun Lucy pulled out. The woman's eyes filled with the same venom and lava they possessed the previous time he saw her pull the trigger. "Your kind… _His_ kind… You've taken too much from me. There's been enough damage." Her nose wrinkled and her eyes flashed. "No more."

"Lucy, listen to me!" Martha cried out. Her eyes were wide and although she remained frozen all her muscles seemed painfully tense. "The Doctor… He saved the world! He'd never…!"

If anything those words fueled Lucy's bitter rage. The hand holding the firearm grew far more firm. "For so, so long _he_ kept feeding me all those lies. Illusions", the woman hissed. "I'm merely setting you free from that same fate."

Jack moved, right there, at a incredible speed. Grabbed a hold of the armed woman. The Doctor moved as well, the entirety of two steps. What he hoped to accomplish was a mystery even to himself.

And then the gun went off.

Four pairs of eyes observed the bullet's inevitable course. It missed Jack's chest narrowly, swishing on from underneath the man's armpit. It also whistled right in front of Martha, narrowly dodging her. In the end it found a home from the Doctor's torso.

From there time seemed to work in bizarra patterns. Somehow the Doctor remained standing, not feeling even a hint of pain, while he stared dazedly at the events unfolding. How Martha screamed, sheer horror etched on her face, before springing towards him. How Jack stood perfectly still for a couple of seconds, then paled visibly and also began to rush to where he was. The Doctor's attention then locked on Lucy. For a while she stared at him, at the small yet steady stream of blood escaping. Then turned around and began to walk away, the gun dropping to the ground like a broken toy. It was the look on her face that was left haunting him. The expression of someone who'd just survived a war and didn't know how to go on from there. The Doctor knew the feeling all too well.

His legs were having severe problems with supporting his weight. Even with the best of wills he couldn't tell how much damage there'd been and at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care as much as he should've. When his knees folded on their own, sending him towards the ground below, he didn't fight it.

He forgot that he wasn't alone, for someone else did fight.

A firm, determined pair of arms broke his fall, soon joined in by another. All of a sudden it was very safe and warm. "… not dying now… so don't you dare start…!"

The Doctor would've wanted to tell them that it was alright. He wasn't regenerating, he could feel that much although there was fairly little else. He just wanted to sleep. So he did.

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><p>Jack and Martha were immensely relieved to discover that the Doctor had been right in announcing that the TARDIS was nearby. Covering the distance, however, took much too long. Minutes that they didn't have left to lose slipped away.<p>

Doing her best to slip into her doctor mode Martha kept repeating to herself that her patient was still breathing, that both hearts were still beating, that there was a elevated and slightly thready but nonetheless very much present pulse. Her patient wasn't crashing. She wasn't losing him.

The TARDIS greeted them with a loud, audibly worried humming when they stumbled through the door. Martha swallowed thickly, that slightly frantic humming threatening to slam down whatever control she'd managed to gain over her emotions. "Let's get him to the medical bay", she murmured. "I need to get that wound looked at."

Jack nodded with a grim, steel hard expression. Without uttering another word they carried on. Both Jack and Martha trying not to think too much and the Doctor never once uttering a sound. It took less than six minutes but it was the longest journey they'd ever made.

As soon as the Doctor had been laid down Martha rolled fabric out of the way to give the wound a look. Her eyebrows furrowed and she gulped loudly. "I… I don't think that the bullet damaged any organs. But… There's a lot of bleeding." Well, that was sort of clear without being said. "And the bullet's still there. We have to get it out."

Jack nodded firmly. "Right. So let's get started."

They operated in a tense silence, apart from Martha's barked commands. Their foreheads and hands were so close to the other's that under different circumstances it might've seemed amusing. It says a lot about the gravity of the situation that even Jack didn't notice the suggestive aspects.

It seemed to take a tiny eternity but eventually the wound had been taken care of and the bleeding had stopped. The Doctor hadn't regained consciousness but his vitals were promisingly stable. All they could do was wait.

"You know…", Martha started. Trying to lighten the grim situation a little. "You would've made an excellent nurse."

Although a lot of worry lines remained on his forehead Jack flashed one of his megawatt grins and winked. "You know me. I'm a man of many talents."

Martha couldn't help but chuckle at that. She then sighed, looking at her patient. "Today… Today I realized just how little I know about him. About his anatomy, his history… Everything."

"It's nothing personal", Jack pointed out. "He's just… He's lost a lot of people. One way or another everyone leaves him. Makes it a bit hard to… get close."

Martha's eyebrow arched. "You sound like you're speaking from experience." She then blinked once, realizing the glitch in her logic. "Right. Sorry."

Jack shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "It's okay. I've had a while to get used to it, now."

They sat in a silence for the longest time. Both deep in thought. Waiting, wondering, hoping, trying to figure out what to do next. That was until the Doctor began to mutter something in his sleep, a deep frown taking over his face.

Jack's head snapped up instantly, a new spark appearing to his eyes.

Martha stood up, leaning a bit closer to examine that injured Time Lord. "Doctor? Can you hear me?"

Slowly, slowly, the Doctor's eyes opened slightly, dazed and confused. For a moment they seemed astonishingly young, free of some of the shadows she'd seen haunting them from the moment they met. "…Rose?…"

Martha felt a extremely sharp twinge that she wasn't exactly proud of. She gritted her teeth. "No, just me." Her voice was a touch more bitter than she'd anticipated. She tried to make up for that with squeezing his shoulder gently. "How are you feeling?" But the Time Lord had drifted off once more. She sat back down with a heavy sigh and a broken heart.

Jack gave her a moment to regain some composure before speaking in a oddly soft, almost knowing tone. "It's easy to fall in love with him, isn't it? With the adventure he can lead you to." He reached out a hand, ran it through their patient's hair. "It's too easy to not see how dark it is in there." All of a sudden the captain's eyes widened and a gasp slipped through his lips.

Martha stiffened, her heartbeat speeding. "Jack? Is something wrong with him?"

Jack shook his head slowly, withdrawing his hand as though the physical contact to the alien had hurt. "No. His head is just… a bit out of control, right now."

Martha's heart thudded. "You mean… Did you see his thoughts? Memories?"

Jack nodded, speechless.

Martha knew that it was wrong. That she had no right to peek into his head without his consent, especially when he was at his most vulnerable. But she was only human. The temptation… It was too much. This could be her only chance to get to really know him. And before she managed to fully process what she was doing she reached out both hands, placing them firmly to the sides of his head.

"Martha, don't…!"

But it was too late. The flood started as soon as her fingers brushed his skin. And Martha found herself wondering if she'd taken a plunge that she couldn't handle.

It was an endless collection of horror images. Of buildings being destroyed. Of whole planets being destroyed. Of people screaming, crying, begging, howling in agony, dying. All that he'd been forced to watch, unable to help… Everyone he'd been unable to save… Everything he'd been forced to sacrifice… All he'd had no other choice but to leave behind… They were storaged there in his head, with a vivid amount of detail. Still crystal clear despite some of the flashes being almost a thousand years old.

And the people… Kinsmen… Comrades… Friends… Family… Companions… Loved ones… Even his own children… Dear god, there was a time when he was a father, a family man…!

So many dear ones he'd lost… Too many, each of them tearing apart a piece of his hearts, leaving them scarred and bleeding. All that guilt, helpless rage, immeasurable grief… The flood seemed endless and eventually she felt like begging it to just stop. She couldn't even imagine living with all of _that_ every single day, for centuries, millennia.

"Why…", she choked out, distantly aware of the tears running down her cheeks. "Why do you keep on living?"

And then, mercifully, it was finally over. Martha gasped, as though she hadn't been able to breathe properly in ages. Her eyes were still more than a little clouded by tears when she looked up. Only to find the Doctor's eyes open once more. He was trying to smile, just a little, but there was pain on his face. Such that quite possibly wasn't entirely physical. That was when she became entirely too aware of the words that just slipped past her lips. Her eyes widened and her blood ran cold.

_Oh no…!_

Jack cleared his throat. "I'll just… go and make some coffee. Play nice, you two." With that he left the room a bit too quickly.

Martha took a deep breath before gathering the courage to look at the Time Lord. "I'm sorry, that I couldn't find better pain medication." It wasn't what she truly wanted to apologize for but it was a good start. "There are lot of bottles here but I don't know what most of them are for."

Seeming to be in the middle of a inner turmoil the Doctor gave her instructions, a list of medication and the amount he should be given. She complied quickly and the next few moments passed by in a comfortable silence. All was well as long as she had something to do.

But then, entirely too quickly, she was finished. Their eyes met and held, his holding something that she'd never seen before. She sighed as she took his hand and squeezed. "Doctor… I'm sorry that I looked into your memories."

He shrugged. His wince told that the gesture hurt more than he'd expected. "I'd imagine that it was a lot more unpleasant for you than for me."

Martha wasn't about to let him keep her from apologizing properly. Steeling herself she went on. "And… I'm really, truly sorry, for what I said. It's just… Your memories…"

"It's alright." He seemed to mean it. He refused to look at her, though. "It's… not like I've never asked myself the same thing."

She squeezed his hand a little tighter and was relieved when he responded, clearly understanding her intention. "I… I don't know why. Why you haven't given up like the Ma… like _he_ did." Finally meeting his gaze again she smiled although her eyes didn't feel fully dry. "But I'm glad that you keep on living. The world needs you. The whole universe needs you. Don't ever forget that."

For a few seconds he looked at her, clearly taken by surprise. Then, gradually, a small and thin but real smile appeared to his lips. Shortly after he fell into what looked like peaceful sleep.

As he dreamt on Martha stared at him, her hands shaking all of a sudden. Her thoughts whirred at a dizzying speed, circling around in bizarre patterns. Coming to heart shattering conclusions.

Now that she'd seen his memories, now that she knew what he'd been through… She did know him better than ever before. She also loved him more than she ever had before. And just as clearly she knew that while he did care about her, immensely, he'd never feel for her what she did for him.

She wiped her eyes, trying to control her sobs.

She _was_ glad, more than any words could express, that he was alive. He was the Doctor, after all, the last of his kind. But he wasn't her Doctor. And she couldn't keep wasting her very much limited life waiting for him to start feeling something that he never would.

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><p>When the Doctor woke up again Martha wasn't there anymore. Instead Jack entered the room with two mugs of coffee. "She fell asleep so I took her to bed", the captain explained. Seeing his arched eyebrow the other gave his most innocent expression. "Just to sleep, I promise!" Offering one of the coffees the former Time Agent sat down. "Must've been one hell of a talk, the two of you had." The 'Are you alright?' was unvoiced but nonetheless loudly present.<p>

"Hmm." The Doctor let the drink's steam fill his head. It numbed the gnawing ache, at least a little. "It's all a bit of a blur." He took a sip. Surprise must've shown from his face. It had to be the best coffee he'd ever tasted. "This is incredible."

Jack smiled but it wasn't one of his usual ones. This grin was something soft and fond, almost private. "I had the best teacher."

The Doctor just had to smile, too, while understanding dawned. "I see." He didn't speak again until after a couple of more sips. "So… It's finally over."

"Yes." Jack's shoulders slumped a little with immense relief. That same emotion was enough to chase away some of the new shadows from the man's eyes. "It's over."

"Where do you want to go next?"

Jack didn't even need to think. The man's eyes burned with never before seen passion. "Home."

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><p><strong><em>End.<em>**

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><p>AN: The poor thing! (sniffs) But at least we know that he'll be reunited with Donna soon.

Soooo… Any thoughts? Comments? There's a very eager, hungry little box down below eager to receive a line or two.

In any case, THANK YOU, so much, for reading! And whoever knows. Maybe I'll be seeing you again.

Now… Onwards and upwards!

(insert the sound of the TARDIS swooshing)


End file.
